


Under the Ethereal Moon

by alpacatracks



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Bottom Edelgard von Hresvelg, Drunk Sex, Exhibitionism, F/F, Good old fashioned Edeleth filth, Oral Sex, Public Sex, Rough Sex, Smut, Top My Unit | Byleth, Vaginal Fingering, there's a ball
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-07
Updated: 2021-03-07
Packaged: 2021-03-13 18:54:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,444
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29905560
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alpacatracks/pseuds/alpacatracks
Summary: Without warning, Edelgard reached over and took her hand firmly. “That’s what I want,” she said, almost breathlessly. “I want to do it out here. During the ball.”Byleth stared at her obliviously. “Do what?”----Edelgard is less than enthusiastic about hosting a ball at the palace. But when an opportunity presents itself, how could Byleth possibly say no to her?
Relationships: Edelgard von Hresvelg & My Unit | Byleth, Edelgard von Hresvelg/My Unit | Byleth
Comments: 8
Kudos: 71





	Under the Ethereal Moon

**Author's Note:**

> Hi all! I was immensely proud to see that Edeleth is one of the top F/F ships on AO3 with the highest proportion of E-rated fic, so I thought I'd play my part by bashing out (sorry) a fic that's been lurking in my mind for a while: Edeleth having sex in the Enbarr palace roof gardens. Because what's the point in having such lovely gardens up there if you're not going to use them?

The gardens were Byleth’s favourite part of the palace. Surrounded by high walls, concealing them from the city beyond, stood a world of sculpted fountains, neatly trimmed hedges, beds overflowing with flowers from across Fódlan and beyond. Even in winter, when a thin blanket of frost covered the lawns and clung to the petals of the flowers (the ones that hadn’t died, that was), Byleth enjoyed being outside, watching her breath rising in wisps.

Even better than the main gardens were the roof gardens. The palace had plenty. She had stumbled on one for the first time by accident: a door that she’d thought belonged to a store cupboard had led to a winding stone staircase which ascended to a beautiful terrace decorated with crawling vines and hanging baskets. Its location, several floors up, granted her a view of the entire city. 

While Edelgard toiled away in her study, or in meeting rooms with officials or foreign dignitaries, Byleth would often retreat to her favourite spot on the roof. After the war had ended, the pleasant warmth of spring had been replaced by the balmy heat of summer (Edelgard had warned her about how achingly hot summers in the capital could get). Soon came the warm hues of autumn, falling leaves cascading downwards around, coating the ground in a blanket of red and gold.

Now it was winter, and the roofs of the buildings that lay beneath her were coated in a light dusting of frost. It was an unusually cold season. She was glad to be inside for a change, perched on the window seat in the Emperor’s study, her nose pressed against the cold glass.

From a few feet behind her, Edelgard let out an exasperated groan. Her elbows were perched on the desk, her head resting in her hands. 

“Everything alright?” asked Byleth. “You seem restless, my love.”

“I _am_ restless,” said Edelgard, still not looking up from her hands. “I’ve been trapped in here all afternoon reading a two-hundred page paper on the new weight and measurements system, for crying out loud.” She drummed her fingers on the surface of the desk impatiently. “Can you _believe_ that all three countries used to have different systems for measuring crop yields? Meaning that any farmer who wanted to trade between the Empire and the Alliance, for example, would have to re-weigh his entire stock and fill out paperwork before he could sell it over the border. Now that Fódlan is unified, we can finally put a stop to this inconsistent nonsense.”

“Sounds like you’re more passionate about it than you think,” teased Byleth. “And anyway, you don’t have to do this all yourself, you know. Can’t you get someone else to read it on your behalf? I’m sure Ferdinand would love to spend the evening poring over a report about crop weights.”

It was a reasonable suggestion, but one she knew that the Emperor would reject. It was only a few months into Edelgard’s reign, and she wasn’t yet at a point where she would willingly relinquish control of the Empire’s business - no matter how trivial - to anyone else. Edelgard was too determined to see her vision of a united Fódlan through to the end: so long as any threats to its stability and prosperity persisted, she would not back away. Even if those threats came in the form of inconsistent systems of weights and measures.

To her surprise, though, Edelgard stood up so abruptly that she almost sent the papers flying across the desk. “We’re going for a walk,” she announced.

Leaving the palace wasn’t a desirable option for an intimate, romantic walk. Doing so would involve being accompanied by the Imperial Guard, and no matter how much Edelgard valued the services of General Ladislava and her coterie, having them walking a few feet behind the imperial couple at all times would be...awkward, to say the least. They headed for the roof gardens instead. The crisp, icy air made Byleth feel refreshed straight away, but she could tell that Edelgard was still agitated: as they looked out over the frost-coated roofs below, she kept drumming her fingers against the balcony wall.

“It’s less than a week to the ball,” she said.

“Oh,” said Byleth sheepishly. She had to admit that she had completely forgotten about the ball: the one that Edelgard had really, _really_ not wanted to host, but had eventually been convinced into throwing on the grounds that it would be wrong not to commemorate the end of the war at all. She’d agreed on the condition that, instead of stuffy nobles, the guest list would be opened to the soldiers and civilians of the Empire, and even those who couldn’t fit into the palace had been promised a feast on the streets of the capital instead. Byleth had recalled seeing shipments of goods - cured meats, bountiful vegetables, exotic wines - arriving at the palace the day before. It hadn’t even occurred to her that they were for the feast.

“You’re not worried about it, are you?” added Byleth.

“Not _worried,_ ” said Edelgard, twirling a strand of hair around her finger, like she often did when she was on edge. “But I’m not thrilled about the idea of spending hours inside talking to everyone and dancing and pretending to enjoy myself.” She pouted, and Byleth had to stifle a smile in response to how damn _cute_ she looked. “I’d much rather spend the evening with you. _Just_ you.”

“Well, I’ll be by your side all night,” said Byleth reassuringly. “And if you want to sneak away for a few minutes, I’m sure no one will notice.”

Without warning, Edelgard reached over and took her hand firmly. “That’s what I want,” she said, almost breathlessly. “I want to do it out here. During the ball.”

Byleth stared at her obliviously. “Do what?” 

Edelgard’s cheeks had turned pink. It was rare to see the Emperor flustered, and something instantly clicked in Byleth’s brain. “Oh. _That._ ” She couldn’t suppress a grin. “You seem awfully coy, Your Majesty. Usually you’re never shy about saying exactly what you want.”

It was true that when, say, she wanted an update on the unrest in former Kingdom lands or on the price of grain, the Emperor had no problem in articulating her demands. But with sex, both of them could be uncharacteristically reticent about communicating their desires. It was almost as if they were both still getting used to the fact that they were at peace now and that they had all the time in the world to fuck each other if they wanted.

Flirting, being _sexy_ , wasn’t something that came naturally to Byleth. She wasn’t sure if it did to Edelgard either.

“Well, we’ve never done it _out here_ before,” said Edelgard. She looked back up at the palace, and at the huge windows which gazed out upon their section of roof garden. The orange glow of sunset, which fell in late afternoon at this time of year, looked particularly radiant when reflected in those hundreds of panes of glass. “People might see. But that-” She lowered her voice, adopting a new, sultry tone that made Byleth’s spine tingle “-that makes me want to try it even more.”

It wasn’t just her spine that was tingling: Byleth’s youthful heartbeat had picked up speed as well, and she felt the familiar rush of blood to _that_ area. “I mean, I want this as much as you do. I just-” she trailed off unhelpfully. Damn, why did Edelgard have to be so adventurous all of a sudden? Maybe the frustration of being cooped up inside all afternoon had increased her appetite for risque, public sex. “Won’t it be cold out here at night?”

Edelgard practically snorted with laughter. “Don’t tell me that the Ashen Demon is afraid of a bit of cold,” she teased.

“Afraid?” Byleth scoffed. “No, my love, it’s _your_ comfort that I’m concerned about.”

“Well you don’t need to worry about me. You’ve seen me on the battlefield, my teacher. A bit of cold means nothing.” She raised her hand and, with her index finger, traced a line across Byleth’s cheek gently. “So, what do you say? Will you grant me this one request?”

Despite the cold, Byleth felt the colour flare in her cheeks. “Anything for you, Your Majesty.”

\---------------------

The palace was almost unrecognisable: the walls of the austere stone corridors were draped in colourful tapestries, with fresh flowers shipped from warmer climes adorning the halls and the vast imperial ballroom. Edelgard had balked at the expense at first, but an emergency tax on the dregs of Fódlan nobility had - thankfully - covered it.

Byleth was grateful for her and Edelgard’s arrangement: without it, she wasn’t sure that she’d get to spend any time with her at all that night. She’d taken to hovering on the edge of the crowd, sipping on ruby-red wine from Dagda (she’d lost count of how many glasses she’d had so far), trying not to draw attention to herself. Of course, that was impossible: Edelgard absorbed most of the attention in the room, but her former professor, rumoured to be the one who the Emperor loved more than anyone else, wasn’t far behind.

At one point, while she was surrounded by demanding that she recount the events of the Battle of Fhirdiad for the sixth time that evening, she noticed Hubert slipping away through the crowds, dressed from head to toe in his usual black. She mouthed a _help me_ in his direction, hoping that he’d pry her away somehow, but he gave her a sympathetic shrug and disappeared.

 _Damn it_ , she thought silently, as she took another hearty swig of wine. The imperial spymaster seemed as swept off his feet as she was.

Still, the ball had been a resounding success so far. The two divas of the reinvigorated Mittelfrank Opera Company, Manuela and Dorothea, had delivered a stirring performance of songs from their latest production, including a rousing rendition of _Hail the Mighty Edelgard_. There had been dancing - a mixture of the graceful (almost everyone) and the horrendous (Ferdinand) - free-flowing drinks, delicious food. It must have been well past midnight, but the festivities showed no signs of waning. 

Then, through the midst of the figures on the dance floor, she saw her. Edelgard was dressed in a floor-length crimson gown and cape, her white hair twisted back into a simple bun. She was unmissable, and as their eyes met, she gave Byleth a knowing nod.

Byleth didn’t need telling twice. She excused herself from the conversation she was trapped in and wove through the sea of bodies towards the door. The corridor outside the room was deserted, and for the first time that night, she felt relaxed. The door opened behind her, light and music pooling into the darkness, and Byleth felt her muscles tighten as she wondered whether it was someone who’d come to drag her back to the party.

Fortunately, it was only Edelgard. “Shall we go then?” she said.

Byleth had to restrain herself from tearing off Edelgard’s gown and pinning her to the wall right there. No, she had to be patient. She hadn’t had a chance to admire Edelgard’s dress earlier; as the Emperor removed her cape, slinging it over her left arm, Byleth saw that the dress was backless, and her gaze travelled the length of Edelgard’s spine until it met the neat curve of her ass.

 _Damn_ , this was hard. The walk up to the roof garden seemed to take an age.

When they finally stepped outside, it _was_ cold, but Byleth didn’t care. The potent mixture of adrenaline, wine and desire had lit a fire beneath her skin. Edelgard seemed to share the same fire: she tossed her cape away without a care before, without warning, pulling Byleth into a clumsy but intense kiss. Byleth knotted her fingers into her lover’s hair, removing the sole clip that pinned it into place, letting that veil of white hair cascade down Edelgard’s back.

Edelgard broke the kiss, the scent of wine and perfume and body heat lingering between them. “I want you to fuck me, Byleth,” she said. This time there was no hint of hesitation, no coyness, in her voice. This time, the Emperor wasn’t afraid of saying what she wanted.

The palace windows loomed above them, golden light and the distant hum of music serving as reminders that, within its walls, the festivities were still ongoing. Byleth could even see the outline of bodies through the glass. But in their solitary section of roof garden, the only thing that mattered was Edelgard. She had wasted no time in removing herself from the confines of her gown, naked now except for her underwear and shoes (she hadn’t bothered with a corset this time, perhaps knowing that having to undo all the fasteners during a particularly cold night would be a mood killer). Byleth took in the sight of the goosepimples on her skin, her hard nipples: whether that was from the cold or arousal, she wasn’t sure, but who _cared?_ She caressed those pert, firm breasts with her fingers, her skin rough in comparison, while littering kisses across her bare neck and collarbone. 

Edelgard moaned, _hard_ , and forcefully guided Byleth’s hand between her legs, to the fabric of her underwear, which was already damp from her arousal.

“Slow down, my love,” teased Byleth. “We’ve got all night, don’t we?”

“But I want you _now_ ,” insisted Edelgard, flashing an impatient pout. “And you’re still fully dressed. Don’t I get to admire you as well?”

Byleth pulled away, giving Edelgard a mischievous wink. She was still conscious that the people behind the glass had an uninterrupted view of the gardens, but her inhibitions had been dulled by both the wine and her desire to fuck her girlfriend into oblivion. Besides, the shadow of a nearby topiary gave them some cover, vanquishing any remaining hangups that Byleth had about the public nature of their activities. She unbuttoned her own garment - an embroidered tunic made from turquoise silk - in no time, ignoring the fierce bite of the night air against her bare skin. Instead, she placed a hand on the small of Edelgard’s back and pulled her close, basking the heat of her body and the rapid rhythm of her breathing. She kissed Edelgard’s collarbone again, this time using her teeth to tease the sensitive layer of skin, and continued to leave little bites down her torso, past the scar that Edelgard tried so hard to conceal from everyone but her.

Byleth used her free hand to pull Edelgard’s smalls down and pressed her head between her thighs, relishing the sweet moans and gasps of pleasure that she was eliciting. Edelgard arched her back against the cold ground, weaving her fingers into Byleth’s green hair. “Byleth- please-”

Byleth looked up, her face twisted into a smile. “Please what, my love?” she said.

“Please- I want- I want you inside me, OK?”

“ _Patience_ , Your Majesty. We’ve waited for this all night. Don’t you want to take your time?” Secretly, Byleth wanted the same thing, but she knew that delaying gratification would make the moment so much sweeter when it arrived. Her mind still felt hazy from the wine and the sheer novelty of what they were doing, so she forced herself to focus, to appreciate the sensation of having her head between the Emperor of Fódlan’s trembling thighs. She reached underneath her lover’s body, squeezing her ass forcefully as the tip of her tongue lapped danced against Edelgard’s clit. 

Edelgard was already wet from arousal, but having Byleth between her legs seemed to push her closer towards the edge, her moans increasing in their frequency and desperation. When Byleth eventually stopped, her usual steely determination returned, as if she was about to order her lover to resume. But the sharp slap of Byleth’s hand against her ass caused her to melt again.

“Turn around,” Byleth growled. The guttural edge in her voice surprised her; something about the alcohol and the brazenness of outdoor sex had instilled her with a confidence, a _darkness_ of some sort that wasn’t always present when they fucked in the safety of the Emperor’s bed.

Edelgard seemed momentarily confused, but shifted round until she was on her hands and knees. Byleth aimed another smack at her ass, and Edelgard let out a gasp, followed by a pleading moan. The sight of the Emperor on her all fours, the curve of her back and the radiance of her skin in the moonlight, almost caused Byleth to come right there and then. She reached downwards with her left hand, massaging her own sensitive clit, while positioning her right hand at Edelgard’s entrance.

Byleth pressed one finger inside, then two, appreciating how Edelgard’s muscles seemed to tighten, drawing her deeper into that dark, moist heat. She leaned forward, continuing to touch herself as she did, and peppered kisses down the bumps of the Emperor’s spine. “Mmm, you’re so good, _so_ good-”

“Say that again,” gasped Edelgard.

Byleth stifled a laugh, pressing another kiss against Edelgard’s back. “Oh? Like being praised, do we?”

“Stop _teasing_ , Byleth!” Edelgard hissed. “Damn, just _say_ it-”

“You’re being so good for me, El,” said Byleth, removing her left hand from inside her own smalls and tracing a finger down Edelgard’s spine, across her tailbone, to the crack of her ass. “You’ve earned this.” She began to thrust with her right hand, her fingers pumping in and out of Edelgard’s sweet, tight slit. “And you’re beautiful too. So beautiful. I wish all those people inside that ballroom could see how I get to fuck the most beautiful woman in Fódlan-”

Edelgard tossed her head back, strands of white hair flowing down her bare back, then shifted backwards, pressing her ass against Byleth. “We’d better- give them- a show then, hadn’t we?” said Edelgard, her speech punctuated by short, shallow gasps. “And if you make me scream loud enough, they might be able to hear us.”

Above the music? Byleth wasn’t sure, but still: _challenge accepted_ , she thought. She thrust inside harder, using her left hand to pleasure herself occasionally, knowing that it wouldn’t take much to push her over the edge: simply having Edelgard naked in front of her except for a pair of heels was the biggest aphrodisiac she ever craved. Plus, the fact that she’d been waiting all night for this meant that when her orgasm did arrive, she came with a shuddering yell, her senses temporarily shot to shit.

When her vision finally crystallised, she focused on bringing her love to orgasm, using her now-free left hand to stroke Edelgard’s clit as she continued to thrust with her right. When Edelgard came, she came _loudly_ , as promised, and as Byleth looked up at the illuminated windows of the palace ballroom, she could’ve sworn that someone was looking right out at them. 

They collapsed onto the frost-coated ground in a heap of trembling ecstasy, and for a few moments both of them lay still, their bodies locked together like pieces in a puzzle. Byleth eventually wriggled onto her back, ignoring the icy pinch of the ground against her skin, and gazed up at the detailed canopy of stars. She still felt dazed, sobriety only just starting to creep back into her brain.

Beside her, she heard Edelgard’s body shifting, and soon the Emperor’s head was resting against her right breast.

“Well,” said Byleth eventually. “I’d definitely be up for doing _that_ again.”

Edelgard seemed to have been rendered speechless by the whole experience, but it was short lived. “Well, I don’t plan on throwing another ball any time soon,” she said. “But that’s not to say that we couldn’t make this a regular occurrence, you know? Although it won’t be _quite_ as exciting without the hundreds of guests…”

They lay in silence for another minute, the still night air punctuated by the rhythm of their breathing and the distant hum of music.

“I suppose I’d better go back soon,” said Edelgard with a heavy groan, running a teasing finger across Byleth’s exposed nipple. “But I’d like to spend a bit longer out here with you. _Just_ you. If you don’t mind, that is.”

Byleth kissed her forehead gently. “Now why would I ever mind being out here with you, my love?”

“Oh, I don’t know.” Edelgard wrapped an arm around Byleth’s middle, pressing the warmth of their bodies together. “And there I was thinking that you were worried about the cold.”

Byleth grinned. “Oh come on. You know that the Ashen Demon isn’t afraid of a bit of cold.”

**Author's Note:**

> The cold never bothered them anyway.
> 
> I will write top!Edelgard and bottom!Byleth one day, but today is not that day.
> 
> Comments and kudos are always appreciated! I'm on twitter - @alpacagard


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